[davem]

As usual, I have to point out that this was written before I read Esty’s introduction, so I may go over some of the same ground - I just can’t face going over it & editing out repetitions.

‘What a tale we’ve been in, Mr Frodo!’

I can’t believe we’re finally here, that its finally over (yes, I know there are still the Appendices to go, but I almost want to end with this chapter now). Its been the most amazing experience. I’ve never read LotR with so much attention to detail, or got so much from it. I’d like to thank everyone who’s participated - & especially Esty for her amazing introductions.

Anyway......

At midsummer Gandalf appeared suddenly, & his visit was long remembered for the astonishing things that happened to all the bonfires (which Hobbit children light on midsummer’s eve). The whole Shire was lit with lights of many colours until the dawn came, & it seemed that the fire ran wild for him over all the land so that the grass was kindled with glittering jewels, & the trees were hung with red & gold blossom all through the night & the Shire was full of light & song until the dawn came.

That passage never made it into the final version of the text, but I can’t help feeling that it should have. It kind of sums up the mood & atmosphere of the Shire in that summer of 1420. The Shire, if not yet healed of its hurts, is well on its way to recovery, & we no longer have any doubts that it will pull through & be its old self again very soon. Merry, Pippin & Sam are getting back into the swing of things & everything has ‘ended better’ as the Gaffer says.

Frodo seems at first to be recovering & taking part once more in the doings of the Shire. He releases the prisoners & takes over as deputy Mayor. In fact, he has every outward opportunity to ‘go back’ - no-one is stopping him. But as he says, he has been ‘too deeply hurt’. The Shire may not be the same to him, but that is because he himself has been changed, not the place itself or its inhabitants. They may not show any interest in his ‘adventures’ but they never did care for such things.

Its not that Frodo has nothing to do. In fact, from our point of view, his role is essential: he gives us the Red Book. Without Frodo there would be no Lord of the Rings. But while his book is of the utmost importance to us, to his fellow Hobbits (Merry, Pippin, Sam & Bilbo excepted) it is just a collection of ‘silly stories’ about ‘chasing black men up mountains’ - maybe fit for reading to Hobbit children around a winter fireside - but hardly ‘sensible’ fare for grown up Hobbits.

Merry & Pippin: ‘the boys are back in town!’. They clear out the remaining ruffians, & then swan around in full armour. They are accepted back in to Hobbit society, because, well, the upper classes have always been a bit eccentric (& everybody knows they’re queer folk in Buckland). Sam: after his mad adventures has settled down in sensible Hobbit fashion & started doing some useful work at last. Frodo, however, has taken after his uncle, Mad Baggins. What do you do with someone like that? Probably best to smile & say a polite ‘Good Morning’ & move quickly on, in case he decides to start a conversation!

It seems that Sam is one of the few people to try & include Frodo, & its perhaps with Sam, alone, that Frodo tries to ‘make himself useful’. I imagine Frodo as being increasingly withdrawn, finding it harder & harder to break through his isolation. Sam seems to realise this. I can’t help but read Sam’s ‘dilemma’ over what to call his new daughter as an attempt to ‘include’ his Master & dearest friend in the happy event &, by extension, in the wider life & events of the Shire:

‘'Well, Mr. Frodo,' he said. 'I'm in a bit of a fix. Rose and me had settled to call him Frodo, with your leave; but it's not Him, it's Her. Though as pretty a maidchild as any one could hope for, taking after Rose more than me, luckily. So we don't know what to do.'
'Well, Sam,' said Frodo, 'what's wrong with the old customs? Choose a flower name like Rose. Half the maidchildren in the Shire are called by such names, and what could be better?'
'I suppose you're right, Mr. Frodo,' said Sam. 'I've heard some beautiful names on my travels, but I suppose they're a bit too grand for daily wear and tear, as you might say. The Gaffer, he says: "Make it short, and then you won't have to cut it short before you can use it." But if it's to be a flower-name, then I don't trouble about the length: it must be a beautiful flower, because, you see, I think she is very beautiful, and is going to be beautifuller still.'
Frodo thought for a moment. 'Well, Sam, what about elanor, the sun-star, you remember the little golden flower in the grass of Lothlorien?'
'You're right again, Mr. Frodo!' said Sam delighted. 'That's what I wanted.'

I don’t think for a moment that Sam & Rosie couldn’t think of a name for their daughter. This is both Sam’s attempt to draw Frodo back, & one of the greatest gifts he could give him. Its significant, perhaps, that Frodo chooses an Elvish name, rather than a Hobbit one, & perhaps reflects his growing ‘otherworldliness’.

Frodo’s growing sense of isolation leads him to invite Sam to live with him. Sam, after all, is the only living person who has any hope of understanding Frodo, who, it seems, is desperately alone, staring into a void & unable to turn away. Sam’s repeated statement about being ‘torn in two’ to Frodo may actually have played a part in his decision to go too. Possibly he began to feel he was not only a burden to his friend, but that he was actually preventing him from living a full life with his wife & child.

Its not clear (to me) when, exactly, Frodo realises that life in the Shire is impossible, but at some point he does realise. I think its less a realisation that he has to go than that he cannot stay. He is being ‘pulled’ away, & cannot find any hold to grab onto. Its as if the Shire, like Lorien in his ‘vision’ long ago, is ‘sailing away’ from him:

As they passed her they turned and their eyes watched her slowly floating away from them. For so it seemed to them: Lorien was slipping backward, like a bright ship masted with enchanted trees, sailing on to forgotten shores, while they sat helpless upon the margin of the grey and leafless world.

Whenever the truth dawned on him, its clear that he knew he would not live out his time in the Shire. He has now accepted his fate. He tidies up his affairs, finishes his part of the (no longer ‘his’) book, prepares for his final journey.

It seems he was expecting the Elven Host - though we’re not told how he knew the time & place of the meeting. What we will soon witness is the Departure of the Elves from Middle-earth, the culmination of their wars, suffering & sacrifice, the end of their hopes & dreams. They pass not with a bang, but not yet with a whimper. They pass into the West in humility, singing hymns to Elbereth. And two Hobbits will pass with them. Who would have thought it? Yet, it is necessary. The ‘assumption’ of Frodo & Bilbo into Paradise is right. The ‘humanity’ of the Hobbits is blessed, sanctified, through their suffering & sacrifice, & made ‘acceptable’.

Yet, the West is not the Shire, & while Bilbo may have moved on to the Mountains, Frodo, I suspect, still loves the woods, fields & little rivers. But they have been taken from him. He has had to ‘give them up, lose them.’ As he says, ‘someone has to’.

We’re told of Frodo’s vision of ‘white shores and beyond them a far green country under a swift sunrise.’ But this presents us with a difficulty - how do we know what Frodo saw? Who put that in the Red Book? Is that Sam’s invention, his hope for his master? We’ll never know, & in a sense, we really shouldn’t. That question: Did it really happen, did he really get to Avallone, receive his ‘reward’? adds to the poignancy of the ending.

The final words of the book, in fact the whole ending, seems too sudden - we want to know what happens next. In fact, Tolkien did write a further chapter or ‘Epilogue’ (two versions of it in fact). It supplies some answers to our questions - what happened to Legolas & Gimli? what about Celeborn? how did Sam’s family prepare for Aragorn’s visit to his realm in the north? and did Sam let Frodo-lad have his very own Dwarvish battle-axe? It was left out, in the end, because in the opinion of those who read it it was just too sentimental. Tolkien felt the story lacked a final resolving chapter, but in the end I can’t help feeling the ending we have is the right one, & the final words Sam speaks are perfect. CT comments:

In all the texts of ‘The Grey Havens’ from the earliest draft, Sam said to Rose when he returned to Bag End ‘Well, I’m back.’ ‘Well, I’ve come back.’ does not mean the same thing.